


To Show You

by panicnot (project_break)



Category: My Beautiful Laundrette (1985)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Internal Monologue, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/project_break/pseuds/panicnot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny and Omar in the back office, on the day of the grand opening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Show You

**Author's Note:**

> First published in 2011. Revised 2018.
> 
> 2nd person narration, POV is Omar's.

It's not a dream this time: pinned to the table by a tall, rough boy with big hands. He makes love to you, desperate to prove that he's still the boy you fell in love with, that he never meant to hurt you the way he did.

He kisses your mouth and it feel like he's trying to taste your soul. He kisses your neck and shoulders and chest and he doesn't need to worship you, but it's never been a secret that he likes to. And god, but it's nice to be craved and venerated. He doesn't just want you – you know that – he needs you. He needs to be close to you like he needs air to breath. He was trapped without oxygen for so long he nearly lost all sense of who he was, but with you he's human again. Hey, it's not conceited if it's the truth.

You'll forgive him, one day. You've just about forgiven him now. Tough not to when he's so earnest and sweet and he wants you so badly. Oh, sure, he can be a complete arse, but when he's not... When he's not, he'll kiss you against a wall where anyone might walk by. He'll lick your neck in broad daylight with his creepy "friends" prowling on all sides. He'll take the opportunity of Nassar and your Papa running late to draw you back into the office, loosening your tie and undoing the buttons on your shirt, slipping his hand inside and touching your skin, pressed up close against your back with the tip of his nose grazing your neck and his breath on your shoulder, working through the rest of the buttons and pulling your shirt down your shoulders, stroking the back of your neck to keep you near as you help him out of his own shirt, turning off the light as he promises that he's with you now, for good, and kissing you until you melt beneath him. The rest, as they say, is history.

Everything is a risk, with him. But _for_ him, any risk is worth taking. It's worth it for the moment when he takes a long sip of champagne, when he lets it flow from his mouth to yours before kissing it back again.

It's worth it because in every press and stroke and caress of his big, work-worn hands, you can feel that he loves you. In every kiss and gesture and touch, you know that he would set the world on fire to protect you and what the two of you have created together. When you're with him, you know that his whole world boils down to you.

And you are with him, too.


End file.
